


all will come to you if you come with me

by chinarai



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: 2nu, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-22 01:13:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 19,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14297532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chinarai/pseuds/chinarai
Summary: Requests from 2nu-alliance in varying lengths and ratings.





	1. i: protection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She squeezes his hand back and holds it like a lifeline.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another collection of 2nu stories, specifically for requests from 2nu-alliance on tumblr/discord. Make sure to check it out!   
> This one's for **ushimooshi** : Noodle being harassed by drunk male fans and 2D stepping in  
> Enjoy!

Some artists have the habit of gracing their fans with their presence after shows, slipping out the backdoor to take pictures and give autographs. They were never the kind to partake in such activities, though they will stop to pose for a selfie or two if they run into fans on the streets or in the airport. After their show, their return to the limelight after years of lying dormant, Murdoc thinks it’s a good idea to go greet their admirers and boost their popularity a little more. They agree and so the band treads though the backstage, stepping over wires and evading the staff in their route to the street.

The air is chill tonight and her skin prickles with goosebumps. A suggestion from Russel made them pick the outfit for the night as the ones they wore in the music video for _Saturnz Barz_ , which earned them excited screams from the audience upon stepping on stage for the first time in so long, together. Somewhere between the heat of the songs and the dancing whilst playing, Noodle had discarded her fuzzy, blue jacket and settled for rocking for the rest of the night in a simple black dress that clung to her slim figure like a second skin.

Now tired and away from the bright lights, she yearns for her jacket again. Still, she discreetly rubs her arms to keep them warm and smiles brightly at the cameras and the mass of loud fans waiting for them. The flashes are hard on her tired eyes, and Murdoc starts talking over all the noise until the thrilled shouting shifts into a conversation at a bearable volume. The group parts ways and the fans flock to their favorite members like moths to a flame.

Noodle plays with the cap of her pen and grins at her female fans that circle around her, shoving shirts, posters and CDs in front of her face to get her autograph. She writes her name in thick, intricate Japanese characters followed by a tiny heart, and tries her best to give them all equal attention. She leans into a fan’s side and winks at the camera, and goes back to signing the same word over and over until her already stiff joints feel a little number. The guitarist bears it all with a smile, though, relishing in the joy of doing what she loves again.

She spares a few seconds to look at her bandmates – or what she can see of them above the heads of the people around her. It sucks to be so short and the heels of her ankle boots do very little to aid her. She can see Russel’s red beanie at a distance and hears more than sees Murdoc with his fans. 2D is the easiest one to spot, also the one closest to where she stands. He bends down from time to time for pictures and smiles graciously at the fans looking at him with stars in their eyes. She bites the inside of her cheek to keep her fond smile to herself and diminishes it to a slight quirk of her lips when their gazes meet.  

Adjusting her large pair of sunglasses on her face, Noodle entertains the idea of releasing her hair from the pigtails to keep her ears warm. Some male fans approach her with roses, some more mangled than the others, and she balances them all in the crook of her elbow, expressing her gratitude as she cranes her neck up to look at them in the eye.

The fans around her start to dissipate and she masks her weariness well as she bids them goodbye. A new wave of people comes towards her to replace the ones that just left. Noodle takes a little comfort in knowing that within an hour, she will be in her hotel room where she can take a shower and then slip under the covers of a bed. She cats a glance at the backdoor, half hoping to get a glimpse of her jacket. If anyone from the staff met her gaze now and managed to read her mind, she would be forever grateful to them.

Noodle turns back to the fans and starts the process over again, doing her best to keep her smile from looking like a grimace. They should have stipulated a time limit for this. There are too many people in here; they can’t possibly pay attention to every single one of them, and her feet are starting to hurt too much to ignore.

A handful of men push through the group and tower over her. Her skin prickles again, but it’s not from the cold. Noodle has lived enough to recognize the smell of alcohol from a distance, and has been around her bandmates for too long to recognize the telltale signs of drunkenness. She eyes the group warily, grips the pen a little tighter.

“Can ya autograph my forehead?”

She blinks at the slurred request, but complies, reaching up to slide the felt tip along sweaty skin. She signs a muscled bicep next, then tanned pectoral muscles, and various other body parts. Some men have her name written in three different spots or more, and they keep asking. Noodle tries to back away and ask them to let other people have their turn to talk to her, but they insist on approaching and she feels cornered. One of them takes the marker from her hand and uncaps it, says something to his friends that she can’t understand due to the white noise in her ears, and leans down to write on her.

The pen touches her collarbones and Noodle feels suffocated. Her body feels hot and cold at once, and her palms are getting clammy. In the back of her mind, she knows she can fight them off. A few well-placed jabs and she would have these men on their knees or backs in less than twenty seconds, but they’re too close. Too damn close and that old, familiar sensation of being trapped surges through her along with memories she has tried so hard to suppress. Her body isn’t responding to her instincts and their laughter is darker and distorted in her head, the colored lenses of her glasses making the experience worse. Too many hands are touching her at once, on the arms, on the back, on the waist, and Noodle can’t seem to find the strength to fight back. She feels like a teen again, lost in a place full of vile creatures, fighting for her life.

“Oi!” She whips her head around frantically, searching for the source of the voice that pushed through the buzz in her ears. The felt tip of the marker leaves her skin and there’s some space, some fresh, cold air she breathes in shakily. “What’re yeh lot doin’?”

At the singer’s intervention delivered in the form of a harsh shove that had the intoxicated man stumbling back, the fans that had been standing by idly begin to direct the drunken men away from her. Her limbs are shaking and she fights the urge to grab her hair. The roses she received from loving fans lay by her feet, destroyed. Russel is walking towards them, Murdoc a few steps behind, but 2D is already guiding her back inside. She flinches at his touch, but doesn’t fight it, because he’s warm and steady, and she’s so cold and afraid and _oh_ _God_.

He takes her to a shadowed corner. His hands leave her body and she misses his presence as she takes a seat on top of a crate, falling upon it like a dead weight. Something soft falls on her shoulders, barely applying as much pressure where his palms had once been, and Noodle buries her nose into the familiar material after 2D is done fixing the jacket. He doesn’t say anything, but crouches down before her with her hands in his, thumbs rubbing along her knuckles in a soothing gesture.

Noodle exhales shakily, disrupting the fuzzy blue that tickles the underside of her nose, and peers at him through pink and green lenses. A frown mars his handsome face, but he smiles softly when he meets her eyes, squeezing her hands. She wishes he could hug her tightly, envelope her with his body, shield her away from the world as they have done many times before in private, but they can’t do this, not here, not now.

She squeezes his hand back and holds it like a lifeline.


	2. ii: onsen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What’s so weird about sharing a hot tub with your best friend? It’s not like they’re going to be naked in it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two frieeeeends chilling in a hot tub five feet apart bc they're totally platonic  
> except I like to watch them squirm and there's barely any space  
> Enjoy!

As they leave the hotel and get a cab, 2D still doesn’t fully comprehend where they’re going. All he knows is that Russel and Murdoc went ahead, leaving Noodle behind to wait for him whilst he caught up on some sleep. The band is still jetlagged from their flight and the concert on the previous night only depleted their energy levels. He smiles at the driver and lets Noodle do all the talking, as usual, and the wonder he feels at listening to her speaking her native language never seems to shrink.

Japan differs greatly from England and he enjoys the change of scenery and culture as much as he can. The singer stares out the window at the crowded streets and the looming skyscrapers, thinking back to the distant memory of a quiet temple with lush gardens they got to see the last time they came over. He quietly taps his foot to the beat playing in the radio and catches Noodle humming the tune under her breath as she scrolls through her social media feed.

2D turns to her and asks that she clarify, again, where they are going. Noodle lowers her phone and purses her lips. “An onsen is like... A big pool filled with hot water. It’s great for relaxing.”

He nods slowly. His weary body seems to enjoy the idea of a good soak immensely. Then it clicks. “Oh, I fink I’ve seen it on tha telly befo’. Monkeys do it too, don’t they?”

She pauses, fingers ceasing their typing, and bursts out laughing. “Yeah, I guess they do.” He grins and turns his attention back to the outside.

When they reach their destination, he stares in awe at its architecture as Noodle pays the driver and nudges him to move. The place is scenic at best, with neatly trimmed bushes that guide the way to a traditional house with a bamboo wind chime swaying on the porch and a koi pond not too far. She slides the door open and they leave their shoes by the door, slipping their feet into plush slippers before heading to the reception desk.

A woman wearing traditional robes bows her head in greeting, her dark hair neatly pinned behind her head, and focuses her attention on Noodle. 2D rocks back and forth on his heels as they speak and takes the time to observe the inside. A paper lantern hangs from the ceiling, traditional gravures are drawn on the paper doors to the left of the room, and a cat sleeps on the counter close to a bonsai tree. He debates whether he should pet it or not.

Noodle cuts through his thoughts with a slightly troubled voice. “She says the collective baths are full and they have only one private onsen vacant.”

He furrows his brow and they stare at each other in silence. Behind her, the woman is smiling pleasantly at them. He gives a hesitant nod. They are best friends! What’s so weird about sharing a hot tub with your best friend? It’s not like they’re going to be naked in it. He’s going to see her in a state of undress, yes, but they’re friends. Good friends. The best of friends. Totally platonic friends. They have a zen bond and all that. It’s not going to be weird or awkward. Not at all.

When the exchange between the two women is over, the receptionist slips a key into Noodle’s hand and leads them to their rented onsen located in the back of the building. The room is just as charming as the entrance and it distracts him from his warring thoughts. Smooth rocks surround the bath that seems to have been sculpted by nature itself, shaded by branches of a nearby tree in full bloom that drops petals to the water below. Steam travels upwards in spirals and he can feel the heat from where he stands close to the edge.

Noodle is lingering by the door still when approaches her. “We ‘ave no bafin’ suits.”

She swallows and nods almost solemnly, cheeks aflame. “Just... Just look the other way.”

His eyes widen and 2D covers them with his hands when her hands move to the hem of her shirt. They _are_ going to be naked after all, in each other’s presence, in a tiny hot spring that certainly doesn’t provide enough space between two bodies. His cheeks are burning already and the warmth coming from the water isn’t helping much. 2D listens to the rustling of her clothes and tries to think of something else, anything but Noodle stripping.

A bad choice of words. Now he can only imagine her _stripping_.

He startles when she moves past him and the spot in his arm where her shoulder brushed is scalding as if she branded him. “Your turn,” she calls in a meek voice, sounding much farther away than she actually is.

The singer opens his eyes, faces the wall and takes the time to breathe in deeply as he peels his clothes away. He tucks his socks into the slippers and goes as far as folding his shirt and pants before hooking his thumbs around the waistband of his boxers and forcing them down his legs. A towel is wrapped quickly around his hips, and he secures it in place with a hand.

Her own towel is set on the edge, and Noodle has sunk as deep as the spring allows her, the water dancing along her lips. She directs her eyes elsewhere and he drops the towel by hers, their legs knocking together as he settles in the tub, an involuntary sigh leaving his lips as the warmth engulfs his tired muscles. They lapse into awkward silence, as immobile as the rocks around them, and when they do move, the other party jumps. A bird starts singing somewhere overhead and the beautiful soothing tune does little to help him actually relax.

Even when they are alone in their shared house, it’s easier for him to ignore most thoughts that arise and revolve around Noodle. He keeps a careful distance from her even as he is affectionate, and knows she feels the shifting changes as well. He has noticed the way she takes a step away when they are too close and how she drops his hand when she has been holding it for too long.

Here, with her smooth legs tangled with his own, her black hair tied in a messy bun with strands clinging to the damp skin of her neck, and her flushed cheeks, it’s much harder to ignore the rush in his veins, the pounding of his heart and the desire to kiss her. And the traitorous throbbing somewhere else.

He shifts again, uncomfortable, and she gives him an embarrassed little smile, shoulders raised. The singer lets out a strangled sound that he can only hope resembles a laugh and she joins him with an uncertain chuckle.

“I should’ve told you more about this.” Noodle begins. “Sorry I got us into this situation.”

“Nah, love, it’s okay. It’s nice.” Being naked in a tub too close to an attractive woman he likes more than a friend is awesome, but not being able to act on his feelings despite the suspicion that it’s reciprocated sucks.

“Yeah, I...” She looks down at her wrinkled fingertips peeking through the water. It’s rare to see her acting bashful these days and he wants to remember this expression later on, the fluttering of her eyelashes and her tentative smile. “I’m glad I can enjoy this... With you.”

He smiles at her, heart melting. “Me too, lil love.”

Noodle beams at him and sits up straighter, and he has to keep his eyes trained on her face with all he has, or else he will get too distracted by the petal clinging on the pinkish skin of her shoulder and the swell of her breasts. All of her is distracting to him, though, as it has been the case for the past few weeks. He doesn’t need to be looking at her to feel his heart jerking with affection. The thoughts of her loving embraces and open smiles, the sparkles in her eyes and the sound of her laughter that he has committed to memory, they are enough to make his heart skip a beat. 2D treasures every little thing about her, from the way she still says that old nickname to the faded scars she earned years prior.

He jumps when something brushes the outer side of his thigh. A brow lifts, but her toe keeps on caressing the same spot and the simple gesture does things to him he cannot explain. His gaze follows the length of her leg towards her face, sweeping appreciatively over any and all bare patches of skin on his path, underwater or not. Her eyes are smoldering, intense, framed by thick lashes and her bottom lip disappears inside her mouth, the corner quirking in a teasing smirk when she realizes he’s checking her out.

2D barely keeps a groan to himself and moves where he sits again. This isn’t the right place to come clean about the mutual attraction and she isn’t helping him at all, especially when she’s moving and disturbing the water, revealing more of her flesh to his hungry eyes. Noodle settles beside him, the curve of her breast against his arm, soft lips on his shoulder. The touch is quick, but lingers for long enough to set his insides on fire. She doesn’t kiss him again and it’s for the best, because if she does things will go much further and they’re still threading the fine line between friends and lovers.

Still, he wraps an arm around her shoulders and she fits into his side so well he’s inclined to think they were made specifically for one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon: 2D and noodle going to a hot spring in Japan and all the baths are full so they have to share


	3. iii: sober/drunk (nsfw)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m not as drunk as yeh fink I am, love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both? Both. Both. Both is good.
> 
> Enjoy!

They have a schedule to follow of designated drivers when they go out together, which only consists of Russel and Noodle in the grid. Murdoc always, without fail, gets drunk to the point of getting sick and passing out when they are preparing to return home, and no one really trusts 2D behind the wheel, especially at night because his eyesight isn’t exactly the sharpest. Russel is responsible and mature enough not to drink when it’s his turn to drive them back, he knows how to hold his liquor well, and Noodle has learned from the best.

Tonight, it’s her turn to drive, and tonight, the three of them are smashed. Luckily, the security guards help her get the three settled and buckled inside the car and she stares at the scene in dismay when she realizes she’ll have to take them one by one inside the house by herself. She buckles her seatbelt in resignation and starts the engine, sparing a quick second to look back at the unconscious drummer and bassist. Whatever possessed Russel to drink too much tonight, she doesn’t know.

2D is only barely keeping it together in the front seat, dozing in and out of sleep and jerking awake with a snort whenever the car moves a certain way. She laughs a little, if only to keep from crying in frustration, and checks the rearview mirror every once in a while to make sure Murdoc isn’t pawing at the window like a dog, wanting to stick his head out to throw up.  

A song plays to keep her company, volume low. There are less cars on the street at this time of the night, but none of them is actually empty. Noodle turns her head slightly when 2D moans, his brows furrowing as he struggles to open his eyes. “Oodle?”

2D’s speech is hard to understand as it is due to his heavy accent and the missing teeth, but when he’s drunk it’s nearly impossible to make sense out of his words. “Yeah?”

“I luv yeh.”

Her heart jerks, but thankfully the car stays in the right lane. Noodle dares look away from the road to stare at his face, her heartbeat a thunderous roar in her ears that grows louder when she notices the softness and warmth in his black, broken eyes. This both feels like a dream come true and a sick joke, the words she has longed to hear from the one man she loves in the worst possible time. She pushes the thought that alcohol makes people painfully honest away, because whether he means it or not, 2D is not going to remember this in the morning and she will carry this with her forever.

Therefore, she clicks her tongue and shakes her head at him. “You’re silly.”

His reactions are slow. It takes an eternity for him to frown and another one for his lips to part. “I mean it. Yer fun an’ wonderful an’ smart an’ pretty. Any guy’d be lucky to ‘ave yeh.”

How can he look at her with such an open display of affection? Is this what he hides when he’s sober? “I... Thank you, D.”

A forlorn smile tugs at her lips and she wets them with her tongue, runs it over her teeth, testing and tasting the words in her mouth. He has said it already; would it hurt if she repeated it? She is never going to gather the courage to tell him and this is the best chance she has been given to let it out. If she could close her eyes, she would pretend it was just the two of them in this car, driving down the road under the sunset sky, the warm hues painting them golden as they confessed to one another... But she can’t close her eyes now, though the daydream never strays too far from the forefront of her mind.

“I love you too.”

The dreaded heaving sound she has been waiting for comes from the backseat. 2D is smiling stupidly at her but she pays him no mind, her priority now being getting Murdoc out of the car. Noodle kicks the driver’s door open and jogs around the automobile, cursing that she had to place him on the opposite side like a fool, and yanks the door open, fighting the buckle to free him from the seatbelt. The bassist staggers out of the car and somehow holds it in until she guides him to a patch of grass. She winces as he empties his stomach and mentally apologizes to the owner of this yard.

Noodle places him back on his spot and he immediately falls asleep. She heaves a sigh and checks on Russel, concluding he will have to sleep in the car because he is a heavy sleeper and she can’t carry him on her back on her own. 2D is listlessly skipping songs in an apparent effort to stay awake and she resumes the ride back home, not picking up the topic from where they left off.

The singer leans in closer until she can see his face in her peripheral vision. She tries not to dwell on it, his breath tickling her cheek, but her efforts prove to be fruitless when he grabs her thigh firmly and she yelps, veering the car off course. Murdoc jolts awake with a hoarse shout and Russel simply grunts in his sleep. The bassist throws her a bleary-eyed glare and passes out again as if he was never disturbed. 2D’s hand is still squeezing her thigh.

“D... What are you doing?”

“I’m not as drunk as yeh fink I am, love.”

She wants to look at his face and check if his eyes are unclouded, if there’s a hint of sobriety in them, but she’s afraid of what she’ll see. His skin is callused on her own as he caresses the spot with languid strokes, face disappearing in the crook of her neck. Noodle squirms, body flushing from head to toe, heat pooling low in her abdomen, and she wants to throw her head back, close her eyes and let him have his way. His digits dance along the hem of her skirt and her pulse skyrockets.

2D moves a strand of black hair away from his path, his blunt nail gently grazing her jawline and eliciting a noise from deep within her throat. Noodle fights to keep her eyes ahead of her, hands tightly gripping the wheel. She should stop, stop him or stop the car, stop all of this, but she enjoys and wants this, and now that she has had a taste, she doesn’t want him to stop. The guitarist reasons to herself that he’s using her not the other way around, that it isn’t as bad or as wrong, but her thoughts come to a screeching halt when his lips press behind her ear and her mouth falls open.

Noodle risks another glance at the backseat, sees Murdoc with his face shoved between Russel’s arm and the backrest, and exhales shakily. 2D is stroking her inner thigh insistently, his warm, wet tongue on the column of her neck making goosebumps arise all over her limbs. He hums into the curve of her shoulder when he presses a finger to her clothed core. She feels the vibrations of his chest on her arm and her legs move on their own to open wider, but find resistance in the tight fabric of her skirt that hinders her movements. It doesn’t stop him from rubbing circles around the unflattering, but comfortable cotton piece she chose for the night, and Noodle bites her tongue to keep silent.

The house is just ahead of them and her emotions are conflicting inside her as this little thing ends. 2D separates from her and a whine gets stuck in her throat at the absence of his touch, but she wastes no time to get out of the car, hoping the cool late night air will drive some sense back in her skull. The other two bandmates could pass as dead if it weren’t for Russel trying to swat her away and Murdoc mumbling when she tried to shake him awake, so Noodle leaves them in the driveway, not feeling like dragging them inside after the ride back home was more tiring than clubbing itself.

2D is sitting on a stool in the kitchen as customary, waiting for her to deliver him the correct pills to help with his hangover and incoming, unavoidable headache, taking them with a glass of water she offers him. He sets it down and takes her by the wrist when she moves away, pulls her closer until Noodle is standing between his parted legs. Her hands rest on his shoulders while his own wander, map the dip of her waist and the curve of her hips, slide over her backside to give it a gentle squeeze and draw her in with a tug. The ticking of the clock on the wall fills the room with noise.

“Did you mean it?” She asks in a whisper.

Outside, the sky is beginning to light up. “O’ course.” He replies just as quietly, hands stroking the base of her spine. “I jus’ needed some booze in me system to get tha words out.”

Noodle nods, licks her lips, and he traces the action with his eyes. “Will you remember it?”

“Yes.”

His words ease some of her worries, but they don’t completely fade away. Noodle steps away from him and holds his hand, takes him upstairs towards his room and helps him change out of his jeans into clothes that are more comfortable. She doesn’t kiss him, not on the cheek, not anywhere, and gracefully evades him when 2D swoops down in her direction. As much as she wants to wait until later to see if he truly will remember, her heart is already clinging to his one-word promise and her head is worrying that he will forget. In between two extremes, Noodle hardly gets some rest and wakes up feeling more drained than she had been before going to bed.

She runs into him at the top of the stairs. 2D smiles, cups her face with a hand and kisses the corner of her lips.

He remembers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon: Lemon drunk/tipsy 2D getting a little too comfortable with sober, designated driver Noodle or fluff where he drunkenly confesses his feelings for her
> 
> I didn't go allll the way with lemon bc it wouldn't fit this narrative, but hey, send another message and you can have that ;)


	4. iv: rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s a lazy day and the hours pass by slowly to the rhythm of the soft pitter-patter on the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now on to some fluff
> 
> Enjoy!

Kong feels like a distant memory, so far and blurred she’s sometimes inclined to believe it belongs to a past life, but whenever the skies darken and thunder rolls, Noodle remembers that haunted studio. It’s funny that her clearer recollections of that place involve stormy skies and the grunting of zombies, and she looks back at them fondly, wishing she could recall just as easily all the time spent in the kitchen with Russel and playing video games with 2D in the living room.

It’s a lazy day and the hours pass by slowly to the rhythm of the soft pitter-patter on the window. The house smells of coffee and cinnamon, courtesy of a certain drummer that has decided to spend the day baking everyone some treats. Murdoc is sitting at an odd angle in the armchair, face propped on his fist as he surfs through channels with disinterest, yawning loudly every once in a while. She has her feet placed on 2D’s lap, who’s fast asleep with his head throw back oo the backrest, laced fingers resting atop his stomach.

She plucks at the strings of her acoustic guitar. The mellow melody she plays lulls the bassist to sleep, head slipping out its perch and resting uncomfortably on his shoulder. The rerun of last night’s talk show continues playing on mute, but she isn’t looking at the screen. Rather, her eyes focus on the droplets gliding down the panels of the window or watch as the singer’s eyebrows twitch in response to things that happen in his dreams.

Russel comes into the living room, tray in hands with mugs of hot drinks and a plate of oatmeal cookies. Her red mug contains her favorite tea and she ceases playing to take it from his hands, voicing her thanks as the ceramic warms her palms through the overly long sleeves of a sweater she stole from 2D. He nods at her with a grin and settles down in the armchair opposite Murdoc’s, reaches for the controller to turn the tv off and picks up a book he keeps beneath the coffee table. Noodle observes as he opens the book in the marked page and loses himself in the printed words.

She stretches languidly on the couch, toes pressing into 2D’s thighs, the joints of her ankles popping satisfyingly. Noodle sinks a bit further into the worn out cushions, eyes heavy with the drowsiness the weather brings. Every few minutes, Russel turns the page of his book and takes a sip of his coffee, and Murdoc scratches his uncovered stomach with his overly long nails.

The guitarist is opposed to taking naps during the day. Noodle has always had too much energy in her body to expend and hates feeling unproductive. Besides, she always wakes up feeling groggy and lost, and it takes too long for her to start feeling like herself again. No amount of sipping tea and nibbling on cookies is helping her keep her sleepiness at bay, though, as it makes her limbs grow heavy with a weariness that she swears she has never felt before.

Russel’s book falls from his lax hand and the noise it makes upon impact with the floor dissipates all of her fatigue. Her eyes are clear and attentive as they sweep over his figure, chin dipped down towards his chest as he sleeps. After all the things she went through in the past years, one thing that refuses to leave her is how she snaps into action at the slightest sounds, a remnant of her time in the hands of the Japanese government. Noodle wipes her lips with the back of her hands and picks the guitar back up, set on playing something just to feel like she isn’t wasting the day away as a prime couch potato.

She doesn’t know for how long she plays, or what she plays, fingers working on the instrument and playing tunes on their own. Her mind is far from the present, lost in musings and ideas she doesn’t try to discern from one another, jumping from the end of a train of thought to the next without pause. The rain outside picks up considerably, now accompanied by lightning and thunder.

2D stirs on the other end of the couch and she snaps back to reality to watch him rub his eyes vigorously and glance around. The room is much darker now and she can hear Russel tinkering around the kitchen preparing dinner while Murdoc is now curled up watching some random documentary. The singer stares at her unseeingly before reaching over for his own mug of coffee, sipping the cold liquid unbothered and settling back with a sigh. When he looks at her again, he smiles and waves her over, and Noodle accepts his invitation without hesitation after setting the guitar away.

Her arms wrap around his torso and one of his own curl around her shoulders, pressing her into his side so he can lean down to place a kiss on her forehead. With that simple gesture, her day becomes so much better. Noodle catches the faint smell of cigarette smoke mingled with the fennel tones of his soap and melts into him when his fingers comb through her hair and gently massage her scalp. Murdoc gives them a pointed look from over his shoulder and leaves the room, letting out a string of curses under his breath. He hates when they get touchy-feely.

They snicker quietly. “Wanna watch a movie, lil love?”

When she nods in agreement, the singer moves away to pick a zombie flick from his extensive collection of movie titles. He must be only person left on this Earth who still owns a VHS player and its tape cassettes, and he picks one from that particular section for their movie session, crouching before the tv and rewinding it. The whirring of the device is almost nostalgic and the black-and-white recording flickers on the screen.

2D returns to her side with a blanket he retrieved from where Murdoc had been sitting and sets the cookie plate on her lap. Cocooned together under the deep blue wool, they eat and ignore the movie they know by heart, its bad acting and terrible special effects. He is tracing mindless patterns on the inside of her wrist, caressing up and down her sides with light touches, nuzzling the crown of her head with his nose and placing feather-light kisses on her temple. Noodle is wiping cookie crumbs from his lips with her thumbs, brushing his hair out of his eyes, laying her head on his shoulder and pecking his chin just beneath his bottom lip.

Somewhere along the neglected movie, the drowsiness returns, more intense than before due to their shared warmth, settling deep in her bones. “Don’t go fallin’ asleep on me, love.”

“I won’t,” she mumbles into his shirt, and he chuckles heartily beneath her. “I’m just... Resting my eyes.”

2D pats her back. “Let’s get comfortable.”

Noodle whines but complies, pulling away from him with a pout and blinking heavily. He stretches his legs along the length of the couch and she settles in the space between them, cheek on his chest, his steady heartbeat a soothing tune to her. A little noise comes from her when he starts playing with her hair once more, humming a song she only recognizes as _Broken_ when the whispery lyrics coming from his lips fan her ear.

Every member of the band has been a stranger to normalcy for the past twenty years or more, but being here with him now in a darkened room with a movie playing and rain falling outside comes close to feeling normal. It almost seems like they are just two regular people enjoying a weekend afternoon together before Monday comes around and they have to leave for work in an office or a retail store. It’s a good feeling, just existing with him, but Noodle doesn’t think any of them can stand living a regular life with regular jobs, although she wishes the unnecessary drama that follows them around would stop. Being a rock star is good enough; they don’t need more helicopters and pirates and demons to make their lives more exciting.

If he ever wishes to follow that path, though, 2D can go through with it regardless of his blue hair, fractured eyes, gifted voice and all other things that make him stand out in a crowd. She wasn’t raised for a life of domesticity, never was shaped to be anything but different, extraordinary, deadly even. Disregarding all the things that happened after she arrived in Essex, Noodle could never lead a normal life with the weight of her past in a military base on her shoulders.

Should 2D leave it all behind in a future in which the band splits up again, she would consider following him, only if it means she’ll get to lie with him like this whenever it rains.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon: rainy day cuddles


	5. v: jealousy pt. i

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Men flock in her direction like starving wolves, and he’s still fuming because she’s his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This prompt gave me life. Thank you, o anon., I didn't know I needed this
> 
> Enjoy!

First, it takes him a while to realize his feelings are changing and then it takes a little more for him to admit he doesn’t see her as just a friend. After that, it takes him days to think of something to say to her, and then weeks until he actually says it. Months into their secret relationship, he finds the courage to tell their other two bandmates and gets out of that conversation with only threats and no physical beatings. On the following day, they tell their publicist and manager.

Mudoc has gotten better in the last few years, but sometimes his past behavior tends to show up again. He thinks it’s a good idea to announce that both singer and guitarist are in a relationship, his ulterior motives clear before he voices them. They’ll be in the covers of magazines and tv shows are going to talk about them! Gorillaz will be on the tip of people’s tongues because of them! More fame, more popularity, more money to their bank accounts!

The publicist says it’s best to keep it quiet for a while, and so they do.                   

2D and Noodle accept it more easily than their self-proclaimed leader and go on about their lives with a little less sneaking around than before, saving their displays of affection to the privacy of their home. They are strictly professional on stage and out of it, and tend to keep distant from one another without making it obvious. If one of them slips, the other members jump in to their aid, drawing the attention away from the duo.

This new stage shouldn’t be much different from how it used to be, but now that their friends know, 2D doesn’t mind that the rest of the world knows as well. He wants to take her out on dates, walk with her hand in his, buy her more than just ice cream cones when the four of them go out for walks and be allowed to dance close to her, to have his hands on her body when they’re in the club. Noodle says she doesn’t mind and he knows she doesn’t care for expensive gifts and candlelit dinners in the best restaurant in town, but still 2D wants to give her that because he loves her and she deserves it. Therefore, he waits until the publicist gives them the green light, making plans in the meantime.

2D knows he’s more susceptible to making mistakes, so he goes to greater lengths to assure he won’t touch her a certain way or mention something no one outside their house should know about. It starts with him looking at spot above her head when he needs to address her in public and goes as far as standing on the other side of the room. Backstage, he uses the excuse that he can trip on wires and hardly ever lifts his head. Those around them find his behavior odd, but don’t comment on it, and he’s glad it’s working.

It’s one night after a concert when he’s being overly careful about avoiding cables that he lifts his head to look for the exit and sees _it._ One of the staff members is insisting on carrying her electric guitar, flashing her a flirty smile that shows all of his even, pearly white teeth. Noodle accepts his offer and walks out the door towards the van without waiting for the stranger.

And then it happens everywhere.

He had never paid attention to these things, but now that he’s seen it, he can’t unsee it. Men flock in her direction like starving wolves. The man from the ice cream parlor gives her more than she asked for free. The waiter of a restaurant that actually only addresses her when “speaking” with the four of them, his olive green eyes never straying from her form. The cashier from the supermarket blushing furiously and stuttering when she steps up to pay for their purchases. Teenage boys that crowd around her in the shopping mall and beg for selfies and autographs. Some tall, muscular man from a tattoo shop that openly checks her out when they walk past.

It brings him comfort to know that she never prolongs her interactions with these people, but he’s still fuming after it happens because she’s _his_ , she’s his girlfriend. Noodle never mentions the things they do or say, and sometimes he wonders if she realizes such things. He thinks she does – she’s brilliant! – but reasons she chooses not to say anything so he won’t be upset.

If that’s her intention, it isn’t working. He simmers in his jealousy and glares daggers at the men too focused on her to notice how angry he feels. Murdoc finds his reactions hilarious while Russel does what he can to appease him, but all it takes is Noodle bumping shoulders with him playfully to get some of his ill feelings to wilt away. Just some of it, because whenever he catches men looking at her in an inappropriate way, it all returns stronger than before.

They’re in a café that afternoon, alone. Russel and Murdoc have gone their separate ways, each looking for something, and they agreed to meet up in this spot in about an hour. Noodle is chatting about a movie she’s excited to see, hinting they should do it together, and 2D gives himself this moment to rest his chin on his palm and appreciate the most wonderful woman in his life. She’s tucking hair behind her ears and can’t hold his gaze for more than a handful of seconds, so he knows she’s aware he’s _watching_ her, and his chest fills with a fuzzy feeling he’s come to associate as love, something he isn’t afraid of voicing from time to time and isn’t tired of hearing her say it either.

A waiter comes and sets a plate with a slice of red berry cake and a napkin before her, and all she does is give him a vague thank you, still flustered because of 2D’s loving smile and gentle eyes. Noodle moves the plate a certain way, smooth and quiet voice reflecting her feelings, and he catches a glimpse of black on the napkin. His nerves flare and his smile feels a bit more forced as she offers him a bite of her dessert. If he could, 2D would shove it down the man’s throat along with the offending napkin. Noodle wipes her lips with it, seemingly not noticing the phone number scribbled in thick marker, and crumples it in her hand as she rises from her chair. He smirks in satisfaction when she drops it inside her empty latte cup and follows her to the street.

Noodle takes him to a shop with tons of books neatly ordered in shelves, some sections with CDs and another one with video game merchandise. He spends a lot of time browsing through these while Noodle goes looking for an astrophysics book on the other side of the store. A new survival horror game that he’s been wanting to play for a while catches his attention and he slips it under his arm with the intent of purchasing it. She’ll like this one, it’s from one of her favorite franchises, and he can’t wait until they get home to play it together.   

When he sees her again, Noodle is in the company of a clerk and his fingers tighten around the plastic case of the game, snapping it. 2D doesn’t care if the CD inside is ruined or if he’ll have to pay for it and an undamaged copy. The lustful glances and unsolicited pictures aren’t as bad as seeing this guy touching her shoulder and being all charming as she glances between two books in her hands at a loss of which to pick. Noodle isn’t paying any attention to his ramblings, nodding her head in the same way she does when she can’t escape Murdoc’s drunken speeches.

 _Keep it quiet_ be damned. The singer marches up to them and wraps an arm around her shoulders, batting the man’s hand away with the game in the process and earning a surprised, wide eyed stare from Noodle when he pulls her closer, her mouth falling open. He doesn’t look at the clerk again and takes her chin in his hand to guide her face towards his, making good use of her parted lips to slip his tongue into her mouth and make her sigh against him.

“I’ll take both,” she breathes against his skin and scrambles to pass the heavy books to the stunned man beside her without tearing her eyes away from her boyfriend.

2D uses this opportunity to fix him with an intense glare and passes him the broken game. “This, too.”

Noodle draws him in again, hands in his hair. Her lips are pliant and soft under his, bending to his will and the intensity of his kiss. He loves taking the lead, loves towering over such a fierce woman and ravishing her mouth until her knees are week, until she has run out of breath and still asks for more. 2D traps her between his body and the bookshelf, pins her to the books she had been looking through, tastes the coffee on her tongue and the strawberry on her lips, and makes sure she forgets everything except for who she belongs to.

“What’s the meaning of this?” She asks with a heaving chest and fingers around the collar of his shirt.

He sucks on the pulse of her neck, light enough as to not leave a mark. “Tired o’ all tha men finking yer available.”

A puff of air leaves her in a rush, his arms being the only thing keeping her upright. “So you’ve noticed.”

“’Ard not to notice when I’m lookin’ at yeh all tha time meself, love.”

The singer pulls back, secures her in that spot with the heat of his gaze alone. She shivers at the promise in his eyes, the unsaid words that hang between them, the doors that have opened now that he’s thrown caution to the wind. 2D brushes his thumb across her cheek and pulls away although he wants to step closer and closer still, and offers her a hand that she takes in a daze. There’s a mist in her dark irises and a blush on her face, her tongue running over lips red and bruised from his kiss, seeking his own taste that lingers on her.

He pays the bill, taking pleasure in the way the clerk is being overly formal and distant at once. Half the store has pointed their smartphones in their direction from the moment their lips met, but he doesn’t mind. Let the world know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon: 2D getting jealous of all the new male attention Noodle’s been receiving


	6. vi: auditions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If you ever need to vent, I can listen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Given the prompt, this idea occurred to me on a whim and it was worth exploring. 
> 
> Enjoy!

In the wake her departure, they hold auditions to find a new guitarist. The wound is still fresh, 2D feels like rotting the days away in his room and Russel is angry like never before, but Murdoc insists on it, disregarding what he’s done and how it affects the members of the band he’s still trying to form. They announce it on the newspaper and wait in Kong Studios. The creepy location serves as a natural weeding process to rid him of weak bandmates that can’t handle the dark energies of the area and supernatural beings they might encounter in their HQ.

2D sits on the couch, sullen, staring at his feet through unshed tears as Murdoc barks at one of the few courageous people that have come this far for a chance. He points his lit cigarette at the startled teen halfway through his insult and Russel decides to intervene for the boy’s sake. Their voices rise as their different opinions clash, but the damage has been done. The boy leaves with dangerously low self-esteem, choking in his feelings of shame and embarrassment. Drummer and bassist don’t seem to notice, too caught up on their dispute, and the singer runs the back of his hand beneath his runny nose, knowing well how the kid feels.

As much as he tries, his mind always comes back to Paula, the words spoken in a harsh tone by Russel, the marks on her neck and the guilty look on her face. At least she had the decency of feeling bad about the ordeal, unlike a certain someone, but it didn’t ease the pain. If she’d told him, 2D would have let her go. He doesn’t know what was going through her head then, if she was thinking or sober at all, and at this point he’d rather not find out. He wants to leave, go somewhere else, maybe have Russel tag along, and try to follow his dream of being a musician after life as he knew was squashed when he was just nineteen.

He knows he can’t leave, though. Murdoc knows no limits when it comes to getting what he wants. He put a car through a window just so he could steal from a shop and had the singer flying out the windshield in an attempt to get an easy lay. 2D doesn’t put it past him the possibility of hunting him down with bloodhounds and a shotgun just for fun.

The shouting of the men cease when the heavy door opens with an eerie creak. They watch in silence as a petite girl steps into the room, guitar case slung over her shoulder, tensing when she catches the strained atmosphere of the room. The old floorboards whine under her feet, as loud as a bullet shot in the quietness of Kong. She shows open signs of nervousness such as fingers playing with the strap of the case, teeth nibbling a bottom lip, slanted eyes that sweep over the dusty furniture, and chest that seems to struggle to hold the musty air in her lungs.

Russel straightens and smiles amicably to ease her nerves. “Hey, what’s yo’ name?”

Her lips quirk in a tentative smile. “My English friends call me Noodle.”

Murdoc snorts and winces when his broken, swollen nose throbs painfully, a constant reminder of his most recent mistake. Behind him, Russel smirks in satisfaction. “We don’t ‘ave time o’ space fo’ kids.”

The shy smile from before becomes tighter. “I’m twenty.”

With a roll of his eyes, the bassist takes a drag off his cigarette. Russel directs her towards the speaker to the side with a sweep of his hand and an encouraging nod. 2D sniffs and sinks a little further when Murdoc scowls at him, and decides to watch in silence as she takes her Les Paul from the case and connects it to the device. Noodle checks the strings, fixes the volume and stands up, back turned to them. Murdoc grows impatient and ready to kick her out the longer she takes, but stops when she tugs at the strings experimentally a few times, tapping her foot to a foreign beat.

When she plays, it’s otherworldly. A magnificent solo, likely an original piece, complex and intricate and beautiful. For a full minute, she plays without facing them, without seeing a slack-jawed 2D, Russel’s approving nods and Murdoc’s eyebrows that rise up to his hairline. The singer’s limbs are covered in goosebumps, skin prickling with every note that comes from her skilled hands. A shiver goes up and down his spine continuously and the wonder that fills him distracts him from his troubled thoughts and worries. She finishes it off with a long riff, lost in her world as 2D and Russel begin to applaud enthusiastically.

Murdoc’s gone back to his usual gruff façade and stands up from the couch with a grunt, joints popping as if he were in his sixties. “Yer hired.” He flicks the cigarette away carelessly and drags his feet towards the lift, and with that, the auditions are over.

It’s an anticlimactic announcement and Noodle is left standing there uncertainly until Russel eases her worries away and reassures he meant it. Bowing her head with a large grin on her face, she puts her guitar away and follows the drummer deeper into Kong to find a room to claim as her own. 2D goes back to his room to drown in his heartache, something that’s come to be his favorite pastime.

He doesn’t come out until hours later when his stomach is begging for food at three in the morning. 2D doesn’t have much of an appetite now, but knows better than to go another day without eating. If he faints or ends up in the hospital, the bassist will be anything but worried and forgiving, and he doesn’t need any more pain added to the one that plagues him throughout the day. Murdoc’s snores are loud inside his Winnebago and he tiptoes his way to the stairs, afraid the groaning of the lift can awaken the bassist somehow. A snort coming from Russel’s room confirms that he is asleep too, but the lights are on in the kitchen, painting a yellowish square on the floor of the living room and making him wonder if the drummer possibly forgot to turn them off before retiring to bed.  

Stopping by the door, his brain catches up with the day’s events and he puts a name to the face in the kitchen. Noodle is looking through the fridge, swaying slightly to a song stuck in her head, when she looks up from over the door and spots him there standing like a statue that doesn’t belong there. She steps back with ingredients in the crook of her elbow and approaches him slowly, sticking a hand out. “2D, right? I didn’t get to see you again earlier.”

He looks down at her hand, pensive, and takes it in an uncertain handshake. “Yeah... Sorry. Should’ve been ‘round to ‘elp yeh settle down.”

“It’s okay. Russel was very helpful and there wasn’t much to unpack, anyways.” Her accent is heavy and hard to understand, but his isn’t much better. She takes a step back towards the counter where he notices more ingredients and varied kitchen utensils. “Are you hungry? You didn’t show up for dinner.”

“I... Yeah.”

Noodle sets some slices of bread on top of a kitchen towel and starts working on sandwiches. 2D walks closer and leans his hip onto the granite, wringing his hands at a loss of what to do with them, sticking them under his armpits before thinking better of it and slipping them in his pockets. She uses a sharp knife to slice a tomato thinly with an awful lot of skill and sets them on top of lettuce leaves that have been washed already. What even is she doing awake at this time of the night? Noodle doesn’t seem to be tired at all judging by the way she wields the knife.

“What brought yeh to England?”

She shrugs noncommittally. “I didn’t want to stay in Japan anymore. Figured this would be a good place to start over.”

He nods slowly, shifting his weight around. “Did yeh always want to join a band?”

“Not always, no, but I always liked playing.” Noodle places one of the sandwiches on a plate and slides it in his direction. “When things got ugly back home, it seemed like a good path to follow.”

2D discreetly inspects the meal despite being there the entire time watching her put it together and knowing she didn’t include meat in it. Doesn’t hurt to check, and after the stunt Murdoc pulled, he doesn’t think he can trust anyone so soon. “A good path, yeah, but I don’t know if joinin’ us was a good idea, love.”

The knife slicing her sandwich in half halts. “Why?”

He takes a bite of his sandwich, uses it as an excuse not to speak. He’ll be lying if he says he doesn’t feel bitter at both Murdoc and Paula, but he can’t go spilling his heart out to her. Noodle seems to take his silence as an answer and resumes what she’d been doing. “It’s not like I didn’t notice at first glance what he’s capable of doing, but Russel told me Murdoc did some questionable stuff.”

The food in his mouth weighs as heavy as a boulder in its way down his throat. “Did ‘e tell yeh what?”

She shakes her head. “Just that it isn’t his place to say it.”

Noodle drops the topic along with the knife and he’s thankful for that. Although he wants to reach out, talk about it until the weight on his chest lifts and he isn’t afraid of getting close to people anymore, 2D doesn’t feel like he can do it. It’s one thing to relive it in his mind, and it’s another entirely to describe it aloud to someone that wasn’t involved. Hell, even talking to Russel about it would be too painful. The betrayal delivered a blow hard enough to break him from the inside out, stomping on his self-esteem and adding a good heap of trust issues to a man that already has too much to deal with on a daily basis. Humiliation still fills him to the brim, and his body is tired and drained from all the pills he takes and the little sleep he gets.

As he swallows the last of his meal, Noodle sets another sandwich on his plate. He is far from feeling satisfied, but would have gone to bed without seconds had she not offered him another one. Her smile is timid and she pats his arm softly in reassurance, unsure if he’s okay with being touched. Noodle’s so short she could pass as a growing teenager and he finds it somewhat endearing, especially when she’s wearing an oversized sweater that’s too long for her frame.

“If you ever need to vent, I can listen.”

His lips curve slowly and he nods once. It will be good to have a shoulder to lean on when he feels he’s ready to face his demons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bg: pretty much follows what we know as canon. Mr. Kyuzo smuggled Noodle to England to live undercover, but didn't erase her memories and gave her vague personal information about her new self, hence some of her strange answers and behavior
> 
> tokiwadais-ace: same age 2nu


	7. vii: trying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wants, longs, to do things right with the one baby that will carry his last name, a fruit of a marriage with the woman he loves. A baby that isn’t coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: this chapter contains a sensitive topic. Anon requested: 2nu having a hard time to conceive and going to counseling. If you don't feel comfortable with it, please don't read if it'll make you feel bad. 
> 
> Enjoy!

They’ve been trying, God knows they’ve been, but time is passing and still they’ve gotten nowhere. They’ve stopped drinking and smoking, consume only healthy foods and work out so regularly a fitness guru would be proud. It’s not about her they’re worrying about, but rather him. She’s still young, has a couple years ahead of her until it becomes harder (much, much harder than it already is), but Stu isn’t as young as he used to be. He’s not going grey yet, though crow feet are getting more visible as days pass and he worries he won’t get to see their child grow old.

He has a few kids already, conceived by one-night stands back in his prime time when _Demon Days_ was released. Never got to see them as kids, never got to hold them much less watch them grow up to be the teenagers they are. He wants, longs, to do things right with the one baby that will carry his last name, a fruit of a marriage with the woman he loves, a baby he will shower with love and affection and protect them from the wrongs of the world. A baby he will hold late in the night when they’re crying, that will run into their room during stormy nights, that will ride on Russel’s back and get away with pulling pranks on Murdoc.

A baby that isn’t coming.

Noodle wears a flimsy hospital gown, laying back in a reclined chair in a sterilized hospital room, hands laced above her stomach as the gynecologist does her thing between her legs. She winces and frowns at the ceiling when the discomfort borders on painful, but stays strong, enduring the exam that doesn’t take as long as it seems. On the next morning, he drives her to the laboratory and she offers her arm to a nurse, empty stomach growling and skin a shade lighter, watches as the woman draws her blood away into a syringe, the needle easily breaking her skin. She lays in a bed next, bladder full, a cold gel substance on her skin as the doctor runs an ultrasonic examination.

She goes through a battery of tests, and so does he, because while he didn’t have problems before, his body could have changed in the past years.

They sit together in a clinic, stark white artificial light making them paler, sicker, holding hands together beneath the table as the doctor reads over the results of their tests a second time. His fingers tightens around hers and she can barely breathe. The man puts the documents down and relays it to them. Stuart doesn’t have problems in his testicles or groins, no illnesses that can affect the quality of his sperm, which he has a healthy amount of, and his age hasn’t affected his reproductive system. Her uterus is healthy, with no ovulation problems or signs of polycystic ovarian syndrome and endometriosis.

Which leads to unexplained fertility problems.

And she knows.

The doctor says it can be hereditary, a problem that’s been going on in a family she never got to meet, but Noodle feels in her bones that it’s not that, that it’s worse and darker. It stems from the government, a hidden experiment, children that are supposed to take lives and not create. 2D feels the shift in her mood and accepts the card of a counselor with a shaking hand and an unsteady thank you.

Noodle lies in bed dejected for days until the rest of the band convinces her to get up and see the infertility counselor. Murdoc and Russel accompany them there, let the couple occupy the backseat as 2D tries to lift her spirits and reassures it isn’t her fault, go into the waiting room with them and stick behind as they disappear behind a white door. Calmness comes from Doctor Peterson in waves and he speaks in a soothing voice, pointing out things from previous exams and asking questions of his own. He compliments them on the change of lifestyle and prescribes a natural remedy that will help them on its own hopefully.

They take it religiously, always in the correct time. They feel hopeful, her eyes shine as they used to and color returns to his cheeks. Everything is lighthearted once again and the group sits together around a dinner table joking and smiling, eating steamed asparagus and grilled salmon instead of the usual cheese pizza. They make plans, the four of them, trips and places to take the little Pot, who will take care of them during shows, nannies to hire on tours.

They try and try, do some other exams and the doctor changes the remedy to a stronger, better medication. Noodle starts a hormonal treatment, something is off in her last blood test, but she tries to keep the smile on her face and the joy in her eyes. She greets him with a kiss every morning, goes do some light workout in the gym, works with the band throughout the day and meets him privately at night for another try.

Time keeps on slipping and as her thirtieth birthday draws near, word gets out that they’re seeing a counselor. Someone in the clinic must have done that. Paparazzi and journalists harass them, hunt their friends down for information, contact past and new collaborators, asking about tiny feet padding the hallways and baby strollers, diapers, toys. They bring back things Murdoc said years past about 2D and make a big deal out of it, shoving mics and phones in their faces to get them to answer. It gets to a point in which they can’t leave the house unguarded anymore, bodyguards trailing them whenever they go. She’s stressed and overwhelmed by the end of one night, retires to bed with a perpetual frown on her face that 2D can’t seem to wipe off with fingers or lips, eyes still hurting from all the flashes.  

At some point, sex stops being pleasurable and becomes an outlet for their emotions, a desperate affair that more often than not brings tears to their eyes. Months have passed and they have had no luck yet. The counselor said in the beginning of the treatment that within a year they could conceive, a probability, nothing set on stone, but it feels like a deadline and as it draws near, the more frazzled become their nerves. She hides it well, bottles up her troubling thoughts and self-depreciation even as she feels like crumbling, though there is no masking how distant she grows from them. She doesn’t eat enough anymore and spends her nights awake beside her husband, loses her interest in hobbies that used to make her happy and doesn’t have the will to play guitar anymore.

The air inside their home is suffocating and it doesn’t take long before Noodle reaches her limits and it bursts. She’s sulking in the kitchen one day when she snaps and Russel has to physically restrain her before she goes rampant on the bottles of medicines and objects nearby, holding her back from the risk of injuring herself. She’s kicking and crying until her voice is hoarse, bellowing at the top of her lungs about her uselessness and incapability of bearing children, cursing the Japanese government for taking it away from her and Stuart. 2D can only watch, numb, lost in his own grief until she exhausts herself, Murdoc supporting most of his weight, and they take her to a hospital when they can’t figure out what to do.

Counselor, gynecologist, psychiatric and psychologist stand by the bedside of an unconscious woman, debating courses of action as the other three men wait in the sidelines. Dr. Peterson offers Stuart new options, artificial inseminations, a surrogate or gestational carrier, adoption even, but he doesn’t, can’t make decisions when Noodle is lying sedated in a hospital room.

They crowd the room and spend the night there sleeping in uncomfortable plastic chairs. Murdoc and Russel use each other for support in the corner while 2D lays his head on her bed, hand on top of hers, falling in an out of a fitful sleep that makes the night seem endless. His mind revisits that fateful moment in the kitchen, the loathing in her words directed at herself. Dawn is breaking over the horizon, Noodle is awake when he looks at her again, listlessly staring at the plaster on the ceiling like her life has been drained out of her. Her head turns slowly in his direction when he brushes hair out of her eyes, blinking hazily.

“Stu...” Her voice fails, breaks, and it shreds his heart to pieces. “I’m sorry...”

“What’re yeh apologizin’ fo’, love?”

“I can’t do this anymore...” She searches his face until she finds his eyes. “I don’t think I can... I don’t think it works... I’m sorry... I’m so sorry...”

He pulls her into his arms, kisses her temple and tucks her face into the crook of her neck. “It’s okay, love, we can stop. What’s tha point o’ havin’ kids if it’s gonna cost yeh yer health?” His fingers comb through her hair, her breathing shaky against his skin. “I just wish yeh’d told me what yeh were finkin’, love.”

She nods, weak and frail and coming down from a high of sedatives. “I know... I’m sorry...”

“Stop sayin’ yer sorry, it’s not yer fault.” 2D says it as gently as he can, trying to sound reassuring and not chastising. “I’m tha one tha’ pushed this on yeh, I’m very sorry. Get some rest... We’ll do what we can to get yeh outta this. Yeh’ll feel better in no time, yeh’ll see.”

Her eyes flutter closed when he presses his lips to her forehead. It doesn’t take long for her to fall asleep and he holds her hands as the sun goes up and their bandmates rise with it. He should’ve paid attention, should’ve read into her actions, should’ve noticed even if Russel and Murdoc didn’t. 2D kisses the back of her hands and then her palms. He’ll make up for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I could have extended this, but I thought a bittersweet ending would be nice


	8. viii: interview

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2D and Noodle are interviewed a year after Humanz was released and they are pretty obvious - except to one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title says it all, but it never hurts to reinforce that this is a dialogue-heavy chapter, which was pretty fun to write! 
> 
> Enjoy!

He's done this before, back when they returned from a hiatus and he had to sit on a couch with Murdoc for thirty minutes for an interview. Only this time Murdoc is in jail and Russel has an appointment with their lawyers, so he and Noodle occupy a plush couch in a brighter scenery, three feet apart, conversing with their interviewer. Monica has her hair dyed a bright pink and compliments the guitarist's outfit of the day as the staff sweeps powder on their faces and fix the mics attached to their shirts before the cameras start rolling.

2D settles comfortably in one end of the furniture and rests his ankle on top of his knee as Monica turns to the camera and introduces them. Noodle wiggles her fingers with her award-winning smile in place and he grins with a small wave of his own, and the interview begins with a brief small talk before shifting to Gorillaz-centric matters.

"You started your new phase with the festival, Demon Dayz, in Margate last year. What do you have to say about the experience?"

"'Osting a music festival is a lot o' work. I admire the people behind Coachella." Both Noodle and Monica snicker at his statement. "But it was really nice. When I stepped on tha' stage an' people started screamin', I felt tha' same ol' rush I used to feel befo'. Didn't know I missed performin' till I was up there."

"It was the first time we got to see Little Simz perform her song live." Noodle says in wonder. "And it was so much more amazing than listening to it in the studio. She's awesome! I had to remind myself to keep playing and not drop everything and listen."

"She's truly a great artist," Monica agrees with a dip of her head. "And how would you describe touring again after eight years?"

"Indescribable!" Noodle's choice of words makes the interviewer laugh.

"It was great to 'ave Noodle and Russel wif us again." 2D says with a fond smile. "Felt a lot like old times, except now she's aaaall grown up."

"In the times the four of us did play, right?" She rebukes, cheeky grin in place. "Murdoc was either drunk or hungover seventy-percent of the time. It was a good thing Seye agreed to tag along and take his place."

He nods, arms crossed. "We went to new places, too. In Asunción, Paraguay, they 'ave an orchestra o' recycled instruments. The kids are mad talented. They even gave me a violin!" The singer ends his sentence with a vague playing motion.

"It was so good to go with them to all these cool places and see different cultures. I'd like to go back in a few years and see how they're doing."

"I got me 'ands on a 'andmade toy in Brazil durin' the concert. The lil fing looks exactly like me."

"He keeps it hidden from Murdoc, though, just in case he decides to use it in a Satanic ritual."

The interviewer chuckles. "A toy, uh? You played a new song in some of these shows, didn't you?"

"Aah, 'Ollywood. It's a fun song to play live. It was great to work wif Snoop again. 'E's a real cool man."

Monica spares a glance at Noodle, but sees nothing amiss. "And the rumors of the new album?"

"2D confirmed it in the last few shows, actually. Should be coming in around two months." She lifts a finger and wags it playfully. "But we can't tell you more than that."

"And what about the documentary?"

"We hope to finish it at the end of the year, or in time for the eighteenth anniversary of our first album."

"It's feature length." He adds. "A big project."

Monica whistles and takes her cellphone from a circular desk to her left. "Well, now that we've got that out of the way, I took the liberty of asking people on Twitter to send us questions. Is that okay?"

"Oh, yeah, absolutely." 2D says and Noodle nods her agreement.

"Great! Let's see..." She scrolls down the screen. "Ty Harris asks 'How did you guys form your Zen Bond?'"

The guitarist ruffles her hair as she thinks. "Our Zen Bond came to be because... Well, when you're ten and in a foreign place, you tend to find something to makes you feel safe. Russel was, and still is, very caring and protective. He looked after my needs and made sure I had everything I needed, I'll forever be grateful, but with 2D... Something about him felt right and we got along very well from the start."

"Noodle was a ray o' sunshine in Kong. She could brighten up my day wifout even tryin'. And she's been there fo' me fo' years. Whenever I needed a shoulder to lean on, she was there, even if she didn't understand anyfink I was sayin'."

"We used to be together all day long and it never got boring. I miss the days when things were that simple."

"Aww, that's so sweet! And your friendship's still strong. You're both an inspiration." 2D makes a dismissive, yet embarrassed, motion with his hand as she looks for the next question. "Mari asks: What do you like to do together (outside of what we know)? Do you have any successful baking/cooking experiences?"

"Yeh mean aside from games an' movies an' music stuff?" He taps his chin with his forefinger. "We like nappin' together."

Monica quirks an eyebrow. "Napping?"

"Oh, yeah! Noodle says my chest is a good pillow." He pats it proudly. "And she's all soft tucked into my side, like a cloud. Also, she likes to test 'er nail polish on me."

Said guitarist shrugs her shoulders. "I buy a lot of them. I have to pick the best one before I paint my nails. We like to go thrift shopping, too! Most of our outfits from recent photoshoots are from there."

"As fo' bakin' an' cookin'..." 2D looks at her for help.

"2D learned to cook during his time in Beirut, but it wasn't anything fancy or especially tasty. We've been spending some time together in the kitchen lately."

"Noodle – and Russel too, tha traitor! – says she doesn't trust me wif a knife, so all I do is measure an' stir fings."

She nods. "And if I keep a close eye on the stove or oven, most of what we do comes out alright. Although Russel is always supervising us."

"Russel's been taking care of you all this time, I see." Monica laughs and looks down at the screen. "Oh, another one from Ty and this one's good! "If the whole band was in a horror movie, what stereotype would they play?"

"Murdoc would be the killer. Or the creepy neighbor."

2D chuckles. "He's not gonna like it, love."

"Well, then he can catch these hands." She lifts both of her fists in a guarding position, but she's laughing too. "Seriously, he'd be the one to get us in the haunted house because he bought it. Again."

"Russel would be... Tha guy tha' knows somethin's off but no one pays attention to 'im." He squints his eyes at her. "And yeh'd be... Tha kickass lady. I mean, yeh were tha one to take out tha most zombies back in Kong."

Noodle's eyebrows arch. "Fighting zombies isn't the same as fighting a serial killer, but thanks, I'm flattered. Now, you... You'd be the survivor."

"Me? I know a lot o' 'orror stuff, but I don't fink tha' could save me."

She shrugs. "Maybe not, but I'd make sure you got out of it alive."

Monica is watching the exchange with too much interest when they look at her again. "Well! Here's one from Alien Girl: 'what do you see yourselves doing in 10-20 years?'"

"'Opefully, I'll still be enrolled in music. If not, then travellin' tha world sounds like a good future to me."

"I think I'd go with him." The guitarist muses. "There's so much to explore and see, and it'll be so much better than doing it alone."

"We've been separated for too long." He agrees with a series of nods. "We should stay together this time."

The interviewer purses her lips and gives her phone a pointed look. "Moving on. Pepper asks 'Do any of you draw? If so, what does your works look like?'"

2D shifts on the couch. "I'm not tha' great wif pencils, but I love watercolor! I just play 'round wif it, but it's very relaxing and my art is actually good. We 'ang 'em 'round tha walls o' me room."

"What I draw is just a bunch of eyes and eyebrows, and sometimes lips. Sometimes I rearrange them to look like faces. And Katsu! I draw Katsu a lot."

"She really does." He confirms. "Once, she doodled it in pencil and I colored it, and then she lined it. Noodle got it framed. We call it Su-purr-nova, all pink an' blue an' purple."

"That sounds beautiful!" Monica says, warmth in her tone. "Chi asks 'What was it like recording Strobelite?'"

"2D got the choreography well! He's clumsy most of the time, but he's a good dancer! It's impressive!"

"Well, it was me who taught yeh 'ow to dance, love." He throws a smug smirk in her direction. "Oh, I guess it's sumfink we like doin' together. Dancin'. It's fun! We've been doin' it fo' years."

"The cameras caught Murdoc doing some shady stuff." Monica leans forward on her armchair. "Was it scripted?"

"Not at all." Noodle shakes her head. "But we've been instructed not to talk about it."

"Very well! Next one, then. Minky asks '2D, is there any special woman in your life you've got an 8-ball fracture on?' Oooh."

He blinks at the interviewer and then laughs heartily. "Took me a while to get it! Tha' was clever! Ah, let's see... I don't fink so, I mean, I feel complete like I already 'ave a bird o' my own, y'know? I don't feel an urge to look fo' a girl. Besides, I 'ave Noodle 'ere!" He motions at the guitarist with a flourish. "Could I ask fo' a better woman in me life? I tell yeh, no, I couldn't."

Monica stares at him in silence and lightly shakes her head. "Okay, last one. From Jazz. 'Noodle, what is your type of guy?'"

"My type? Oh, I guess he has to be my friend first and foremost, someone I can trust, someone that makes me laugh and feel safe. We need to have similar interests... I like my independence, so it'd be nice if he understood that sometimes I need to be alone. I like small, sweet gestures, and if he does that, it's a plus."

The interviewer nods thoughtfully. "So, 2D?"

"What 'bout me?"

"No, I mean, someone like 2D."

Noodle lifts and eyebrow. "I guess... Yeah, like him."

"So why not 2D?"

"What?" She squeaks, blush showing through the light makeup she wears. "N-No, we're not like that at all."

"Y-Yeah, we're jus' good friends, is all!" 2D tries to protest, but the high pitch of his voice makes his attempt seem pathetic. "Where did yeh get tha' from?"

"I could never – pfft – I could never date him!"

"It'd be too weird! We jus' – Nope!"

Monica seems to be content with the way they're flustered and draws the interview to a close as her last act of mercy as the two bandmates shift restlessly. The staff comes to remove their mics and hand them bottles of water, which they use to keep their mouths occupied as they head to the bottom floor of the building. Out in the sidewalk, Noodle checks her phone for the Uber she called in the elevator and pockets the device away with a sigh.

"Ey." She looks up at the singer. "Tha's not gonna change our friendship, aight?"

She shakes her head. "Of course, not."

Their ride arrives and Noodle opens the door, greeting the driver as she crawls onto the backseat and 2D follows her inside. The driver checks their destination and pulls off, entering the traffic and pushing a button on the console to play some music he thinks fits their liking. Noodle smiles down at a picture of 2D from their live interview and swipes her thumb across the screen to take Russel's incoming call. Watching as she speaks with their drummer while looking out the window, 2D smiles fondly. Who knows? Maybe now that the other party was hinted at it, they can turn this friendship into something more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thanks to all the wonderful people from 2nu-alliance that helped me by sending questions! Love you all! Now on to some sources:
> 
> About the orchestra and violin: on _IG: damonalbarnunofficial_ , there are videos and pictures of Damon visiting the place and playing with them
> 
> About the documentary: there's a screenshot found on _IG: gorillaz_br_ of a Denholm Hewlett talking to a fan about it. I used his exact words for it
> 
> About the new album and 2D doll: I was there and heard/saw it with my own ears/eyes lmao, but you can find pictures of the doll on _IG: gorillaz_br_
> 
> 4li3n_G!rl: 2nu interview in which fans ask them questions


	9. ix: bravado

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This is your new exchange student from Japan." Noodle may not speak English well, but she read into his few words and found a song that he needed to listen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thanks to Mahree for helping me with the prompt when my previous idea was proven to be unfit! And thanks Spotify for making a playlist called Life Sucks. And for recommending me a playlist called Alone Again. Really, thank you.
> 
> Enjoy!

Stuart sits in the back of the classroom with his friends, exchanging notes, throwing paper balls at each other, the teacher droning on and on in the background about biology. He’s not the model student, yet manages to get good grades despite never sitting down to study before a test. Call it luck, if you will, but it keeps him going through all the school years and this apparent method has never failed him. His friends aren’t as lucky, rowdy boys that have to shove their faces in textbooks a few weeks before summer so they don’t get left behind.

He plays with an unlit cigarette beneath the table as Philip tries to figure out where his X in their little game of hash should go. The weather in Crawley is good today for a good smoke under the bridge of the local park where cops can’t catch them. The clock on the wall isn’t moving any faster and he’s growing tired of sitting around in class.

A knock on the door disrupts the teacher’s endless babbling and Stuart shifts in his chair, a bit of hope spreading through his chest. The sight of the principal there feeds the small flame until it becomes a wildfire. Lectures are just as boring as listening about taxonomic ranks and learning about equations, but at least it’s someone else doing all the talking and it’s not about long, complex words he can’t understand or solutions to math problems he’s never going to use again.

Principal Stevens steps into the room, his bald head gleaming under the artificial light and making one of his friend snort to his left. Stu himself nearly chokes on his own spit and crosses his arms tightly over his chest, sinking a bit further in his seat so the man won’t catch him laughing at his face... Again. The boys peer curiously at the door when the man makes a beckoning motion towards it, inviting whomever it is outside to follow him inside.

A girl with shoulder length hair, tousled in a stylish way, and fringe that falls over her eyes walks into the room to stand beside him, head bowed. Stevens claps a hand around her shoulder and addresses the class. “This is your new exchange student from Japan. She has requested to be called Noodle.” He looks down at her with an encouraging smile. One of Stu’s friends shoves his hand into his mouth to keep from laughing.

“H-Herro.”

The boy bursts out laughing and some of their friends join him. Stu glances at them with a grin on his lips, which drops when he looks at the exchange student and her dejected posture. Their classmates are giving them dirty looks and Principal Stevens heaves a sigh. “Joffrey. My office, now.” The boy with the bowl cut is still laughing as he picks his way through the classroom towards the hallway and the principal follows suit after giving the rest of the group a dirty glare.

Some girls from the front of the class stand up to talk to the new girl and some boys sitting close to Stu’s group join them. Noodle doesn’t seem to be understanding anything they say, but she has a small smile on her face, face still glowing red from embarrassment. Caroline takes her to a vacant desk near her own and the class resumes without a hitch. Stuart looks at her from time to time to see her taking notes, somehow understand something even he, a natural English speaker, can’t understand.

Days pass and he watches her some more, and Stuart realizes she avoids them like the plague. Some of his friends find it funny the way she flinches whenever Joffrey’s loud voice fills the room. Personally, he sides with the few that think it’s sad. They shouldn’t have laughed at her, Stu more so than the others for going through a phase when kids made fun of him for having no hair on his head or his body. Hell, he shouldn’t be making fun of Principal Stevens either.

The group begins to fall apart as disagreements lead the boys to take different paths, the ones that want to do something with their lives and are finally maturing going one way, and the ones that don’t care what happens in the next three years heading to another. Stu is caught in the middle without a clue of what to do in the years ahead but with a dream of his own. He flutters from one half of the group to the other, lost, trying to hold onto what he knows before he’s forced to make choices as an adult.

One day after a test, Stu wanders around school waiting for the next period, not going anywhere in particular as he tries to pass time. The weather is getting colder as time passes, the canopy slowly losing its vibrant green tone in favor of orange hues. Beneath a tree on a bench circled by leaves that have already fallen, Noodle sits fumbling with her phone, her hurried typing stopping when she hears his approaching steps. She presses the device to her chest with both hands and inches further away from him. It isn’t an invitation to sit with her, but he does it anyway, plopping down heavily on the empty spot with a sigh.

Stu reaches for the inner pocket of his jacket and takes out a cigarette, tilting it in her direction in a silent offering and a question if she minds. Noodle shakes her head negatively. He lights it and takes a drag, not worried about being caught. They are the only two people stupid enough to wander into the open when the winds are particularly harsh today as they blow the smoke in the direction he came.

“Yeh likin’ England so far?”

Noodle seems startled at first, licks her lips before answering. “Yes... I not speak English well, but... I like here.”

He nods, exhaling smoke through his nostrils. “Yeh’ll get tha ‘ang o’ it soon.” If she learns English simply from living with people with accents as difficult to understand as his, then she’s a pro. “’Ow long are yeh stayin’?”

“A year.”

“An’ what are yeh gonna do when yeh go back to Japan?” She shrugs. “Yeah.” Stu drops his cigarette on the grass and puts it out with the sole of his shoe. “Me too.”

Stuart doesn’t have many ambitions. He can’t see himself being a renowned business man nor does he want to be filthy rich. He likes music, can actually see himself enjoying it as he makes a living out of it, but doesn’t know where to start, doesn’t think he’s talented enough to go to the most prestigious universities out there. Stu doesn’t know how to fly solo, nor does he know where he can find people interested in joining a band – and he works every Saturday in Uncle Norman’s Organ Emporium, which means he has plenty of contact with musically inclined people.

He doesn’t think much about it, but he wonders sometimes, usually when it’s too quiet for his mind to wander towards more interesting topics, if this feeling will ever change, if he will ever feel like he fits and belongs in his own life.

Noodle reaches inside the collar of her jacket and tugs at the earphones hidden there until the wire is free. She plucks it into her phone and offers him one of the buds. Stuart looks down at her palm, takes it and inserts the pink bud into his ear as she does the same, the thumb of her other hand scrolling through an extensive music library. Eh, they have something in common.

_“All my life, I’ve been fighting a war.”_

“Oh, this girl’s got good vocals on ‘er.” Stu offers her the cigarette again and she takes it this time, twirling it around her fingers uncertainly before bringing it to her lips.

Noodle takes a drag and chokes, passing it back to him as she coughs into her fist and he pats her back to help clear her lungs. He smokes it by himself and they enjoy the music of a shared earphone, the powerful voice of the singer reaching out, touching every corner of his mind and engraving the lyrics into his brain. His skin begins to prickle before they enter the second verse and Stuart begins to catch the hidden meanings behind the song, turning to the girl beside him with cigarette caught between his chapped lips.

The choir resonates within his body, shaking his bones. She looks down from the clear sky to meet his eyes, black on blue. Noodle may not speak English well, but she read into his few words and found a song that he needed to listen. Her hand tilts the phone in his direction so he can read the name of the artist and song title, storing it in a part of his brain that never seems to let go of songs that are special to him.

He moves closer to her, extending a long finger to press the replay button. She grins at him, cheeks flushed pink, and he smiles widely in return.

_“I want the applause, the approval, the things that make me go oh.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon: 2nu high school AU
> 
>  
> 
> _Lorde - Bravado_


	10. x: jealousy pt. ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Really, if he isn’t with her now, it’s her own fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had a few busy days, but a break was good. Maybe there are some errors; I'm too sluggish today, but wanted to post anyways
> 
> Anon, I changed your prompt a little. Read the end notes for more
> 
> Simbi, it seems, is Little Simz's nickname
> 
> Enjoy!

It’s still fairly early in the night when Noodle leaves her room half-dressed to search for a quick snack in the kitchen. She doesn’t have to worry about anyone catching her in only a strappy bra and tight skirt with her hair pinned up to keep the curls in place and face full of makeup. Both 2D and Murdoc left a while ago to different places with no hour set to return, and Russel is out with his girlfriend that came over to visit. Simbi is in town too and invited Noodle for a night out of dancing, just the two of them, and she’s not going to let this opportunity pass.

She sets her phone on the table and looks through the cabinets to find nothing that is easy and quick to prepare. In the fridge, she finds Russel’s yogurt and half of an apple, and there’s an air-tight container on the counter with a little bit of homemade granola. Well, she’d rather have something else, but Noodle doesn’t have the patience right now to make something as simple as a fried egg and clean up everything afterwards. Simbi is coming over in about thirty minutes and she still has to pick a top and a pair of shoes to wear.

Noodle tosses everything together in a bowl and sits on one of the chairs, phone in one hand and spoon in the other, only half paying attention to her meal as she scrolls through Instagram. A chime reaches her ear and a popup text occupies the top of her screen.

**_[I can be there in 15. that ok?]_ **

Spoon in her mouth, Noodle props her elbows on the tabletop and taps the message, promptly beginning to type a reply. “Noodle?”

She nearly dies on the spot when 2D steps through the front door of their home and catches her sitting in the kitchen, scantily dressed and phone almost slipping out of her hands in a sure trajectory to the yogurt bowl below. Her skin heats up, at first from embarrassment, but when she notices that he has company with him, her flush turns into one of jealousy. Noodle quickly erases her answer and types another one.

_[something came up, sorry]_

_[make that 40]_

**_[oh girl, what happened this time?]_ **

“Hey, Toochi!” His nickname leaves her lips with as much warmth and love as she can muster. “Had a good night out?”

“Oh, it was great, lil love.” He takes off his jacket and hangs it near the door. “This is Sabrina, by tha way.”

 _Sabrina_ has long brown hair and striking blue eyes, a woman tall enough for someone like him, with killer curves and tanned skin. She faintly reminds Noodle of the groupies that visited Kong from time to time, though she dresses more modestly than them. Still, she can see the stranger was blessed with big breasts, which makes her feel self-conscious in her current attire.

Still, she doesn’t cross her arms or tries to cover herself. “Hi, Sabrina. I’m Noodle.”

It doesn’t surprise Noodle that her greeting didn’t have undertones of animosity, but it surprises her that Sabrina smiles gently at her despite her state of undress. “Hello, Noodle. Believe me, I know who you are.” She laughs, soft and light, and Noodle wonders where the glare she’d been expecting is.

2D sits across from her, Sabrina by his side, and the three of them talk like old friends while Noodle tries to get the singer to notice her in a different light. She recognizes she shouldn’t be doing this, especially with his date sitting there with them, but her feelings are clouding her judgement and she’s getting increasingly anxious with every minute that passes and her forty minutes draw closer to an end.

Noodle was never familiar with the ways of stealing someone’s date and the idea of doing it makes her feel sick in the stomach, or perhaps that’s just a result of 2D brushing his thumb across Sabrina’s knuckles. Her throat is closing up as she purposefully runs her bare feet along his shin before she crosses her legs, her heart is beating wildly and breaking as her fingers flutter over her collarbones and his gaze remains focused on her face instead of dipping down to peek at her chest. She smirks, winks, sticks her tongue out and does some mild, harmless flirting that he doesn’t reciprocate, meanwhile Sabrina is sitting there, smiling like an unsuspecting housewife.

Her time’s up and she stands from her chair to place the bowl in the sink and head up the stairs, an extra swing to her hips, her legs barely keeping her upright during her trek. As the door closes behind her back, she takes a deep breath and ditches her skirt. Noodle dives into her closet searching for a deep red dress that he’s complimented before, pairing it with killer heels in her last attempt to get him to notice her. She lets her hair down and runs her fingers through the curls to loosen them a bit, reapplies her matte lipstick and touches up the rest of her makeup.

With the metal chain of her purse on her shoulder, Noodle tugs at her dress at the top of the stairs and summons her inner underwear model before moving downstairs, stretching her legs and pointing her toes and hoping she looks sexy instead of the clumsy monkey she feels inside. Depending on where they’re sitting in the living room, they can see her clearly and this little show she’s putting on has to be what gets him to _look_ at her. Once at the bottom, Noodle realizes they’re sitting in the right spot, but 2D has eyes only for Sabrina, holding her hands in his as if they’re fragile and the most precious things. She has one last trick up her sleeve, though, so she doesn’t think she has lost yet.

2D’s gaze travel all the way from her toes to the top of her head when she stops near them, but he smiles brightly and goofily as always, and she swallows to settle her nerves. “Sorry to interrupt, but I can’t reach the zipper. Can you help me, Toochi?”

“O’ course.”

She turns her back to him, breath catching in her throat when he brushes some hair away from the nape of her neck and pulls the zipper upwards. Noodle faces him again, skirt twirling around her legs, and the singer carefully sweeps her bangs to the side, rearranges the locks of hair that frame her face. She wants to grab him by the collar, pour her love into a kiss and then whisper it to him, scream, sing until he knows how she feels. She licks her lips, dry because of the liquid lipstick, and sucks in a breath to speak.

“You look beautiful, Noodle.”

She deflates – just like that. Noodle looks past him at Sabrina. Sabrina who hasn’t been anything but polite, Sabrina who never looked down on her even as she was sitting on the other side of the table wearing only a strappy bra and a skirt, Sabrina who was patient and overlooked every single flirty gesture Noodle made towards the singer. Sabrina who seems to like 2D just as much as he likes her. Sabrina who is smiling at her now as she genuinely compliments her.

Noodle takes a step back and 2D reaches out when she loses her footing. He asks if she’s okay, but a car horn outside saves her from answering, and Noodle flees the house like it’s on fire, the dress much too tight around her chest, threatening to crush her ribs. Simbi gives her an odd look when she hops into the passenger seat and drives them to a nice little place where they can get some foods and drinks.

“Spill,” she says once they’re sitting in a booth with tall milkshake glasses, greasy burgers and fries in little baskets in the center of the table.

“I’m a monster!” Already in tears, Noodle dabs at her face with a cheap napkin and pours her heart out.

How could she have entertained the idea of stealing him from Sabrina even for a second? She knows how that can hurt someone – saw how it hurt 2D deeply when Paula cheated on him with Murdoc. She wasn’t there to see how he acted in the first days, but was around him long enough to know that it took him time to feel confident again. Hadn’t she and Russel condemned the bassist once for doing that? And suddenly she thought it was a great idea to do the same!

2D deserves to be happy. She will do everything and anything for him to be happy, and when he finally finds a girl that seems interested in him for who he is and not in his fame and money, she wants to drive her away. Were Sabrina acting like a bitch from the moment she set her foot in their home, she wouldn’t have wasted time to kick her out. Noodle doesn’t know if she stooped in the same level Murdoc used to be back in the beginning or if she managed to go down lower, but she knows she shouldn’t have tried to wreck their happiness because she wants him to herself.

She should’ve made her move already, had plenty of opportunities before, but got too comfortable with the idea that he wouldn’t try to find a significant other. Really, if he isn’t with her now, it’s her own fault.

She feels awful, but the food helps a little. “There’s nothing wrong with being jealous.” Simbi reassures, patting her hand. “What you tried to do wasn’t right, but you stopped before all of it was ruined. You aren’t a monster, Noodle, calm down. You made a mistake, it happens.”

Noodle finds a little comfort in that, but also finds that she has no mood to go dancing anymore. She apologizes to Simbi as profusely as she can from around the straw of her second milkshake, eyelashes wet and eyeshadow smudged, but at least her mascara is waterproof. The sugar on her tongue is like a tranquilizer and helps ease some of the guilt swelling inside her as she sips on it practically lying on the table, hugging the glass to herself.

There’s a another vehicle parked in the street in front of their driveway and as Noodle gets out of the car, the door opens to reveal Sabrina. Simbi gives her a supportive look, Noodle silently thanks her with a smile and a nod before waving her goodbye, watching the car until it disappears from view. The two women are left staring at each other, one in the sidewalk, and the other on the porch, 2D nowhere in sight.

They meet halfway.

“Hey.” Noodle starts softly. “I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier.”

Sabrina shakes her head. “It’s okay. You didn’t do any harm.” She makes a vague gesture to the driver without looking away from Noodle. “You know... He talks about you a lot.”

She starts. “He... He does?”

“Mhmm. Earlier, he didn’t mention anyone to be honest. We were getting to know each other, but now all he said was ‘we can watch this movie, Noodle loves it’ or ‘Noodle likes that song too’.” Sabrina smiles down at her, no anger or resentment in her eyes. “Stuart is a great guy and I’d love to keep seeing him, but he’s already invested in someone else even if he doesn’t realize it.”

“I –I’m sorry. I know what I was trying to do, but I never wanted – I don’t –”

“Don’t worry, it’s not your fault.” Sabrina smiles and squeezes her shoulder. “I had to let him down, but I believe it was for the best. I can’t steal him from you.”

Noodle watches, dazed, as Sabrina walks towards the car, stands there alone after the sound of the engines have faded, walks to the front door on autopilot, drops the purse heavily on the floor, the chains rattling and disturbing the silence. She doesn’t hear the noise, her raging thoughts creating a buzz in her ears, but there has always been a voice she could hear loud and clear despite the war in her head.

“Noodle?”

Wide eyed, she looks up at him, there by the couch, lighter and cigarette in hand. Tears prickle at her eyes, she presses the heel of her palm into one of them. “W-What are you doing here?”

2D shifts in place, acting like a shy child talking to a stranger. “I was waitin’ fo’ yeh to get ‘ome, love.”

Fuck, why is everyone so damn nice? Sabrina letting her have him even if she’s interested. 2D willing to stay up and wait for her even as his date just said they aren’t going out again. She doesn’t deserve all of this, not after she tried to break them apart.

Noodle darts in his direction, once again tripping on her own feet and bringing him down with her. His arms wrap around her shaking body, gentle, warm, protective as he’s always been. “Why are yeh cryin’?”

She doesn’t know what to say, how to explain her tears, how to tell him what she tried to do. “I’m sorry.” She says into his shirt, dampening the fabric with tears and smudging it with some of her makeup. “I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, love.” He kisses the top of her head, runs his fingers through her wavy hair, and holds her close as she weeps. “Yeh did nuffink wrong.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon: 2D takes a lady home with him and Noodle does everything she can to get in between them because she may or may not want him to herself
> 
> So, I hope you can understand through the fanfic why I changed it a bit. However, I'll keep your original prompt in mind, because I definitely think she wouldn't hesitate to strangle someone if they hit on him when they're in a relationship


	11. xi: gatecrasher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paula Cracker lost her chances of escaping the moment she ran into Noodle on the dancefloor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know the day is going to be a good one when Jamie releases TWO teasers. I went to bed and woke up crying bc of them but it's gucci
> 
> _Noodle's fucking pissed_ joined the chatroom.
> 
> Enjoy!

Noodle prizes herself for her patience. While 2D is actually the last one to lose his cool, he’s usually involved in (one-sided) arguments with Murdoc, so he spends most of the time silent, spacing out so time will go by faster. It’s needless to say that the bassist is the quickest one to lose his temper and Russel isn’t too far behind. That’s not to say she doesn’t get exasperated, or even angry – she does, but she can keep it under control until it explodes, and when it does, it’s not a pretty sight.

That being said, Noodle handles it all fairly well when Murdoc announces they’re hosting yet another party for no particular reason. “Rich people don’t need a reason to throw a party” is what he says, and she goes with it. She picks the best club, signs the contract, goes shopping for beverages, picks the best menu, a nice decorator, writes and sends the emails, puts together the guest list, hires security, and so on. The only thing they don’t have to worry about is getting a DJ. With too many musicians in one place together, it’s the last concern in their minds.

She’s mingling with the guests and talking to the guards, making sure everything is going smoothly while her friends are at different corners doing what they fancy the most. She stops by the door to check the list and moves on, a swing on her hips and a skip on her steps as she dances through the people towards her next destination. Plenty of drinks are made every minute by skilled bartenders and the staff in the kitchen is arranging the appetizers in trays so they can finally be served. She compliments them all for their work and returns to the dancefloor.

Noodle bumps into someone and whirls around, an apology on the tip of her tongue. She swallows it right back, gritting her teeth when the stranger does a double take and widens her eyes at her, recognition, horror and other emotions she doesn’t care to dissect flickering across her features. Noodle doesn’t need more than a few seconds to connect the dots, the shape of a face from a picture torn in two she never forgot, a birthmark above the upper lip that’s awfully familiar although she’s never seen it in person. Ah, the pros of having eidetic memory.

The woman before her could’ve been any other, just a regular woman that happens to resemble the one person that hurt the singer so deeply. The problem is she’s not just a regular woman, and she’s not on the list either. Noodle chose the guests herself, she knows everyone on it, knows this person isn’t on it. She knows the name and face of every person that was hired to work here tonight.

Paula Cracker is not one of them.

Noodle sees red.

Admittedly, there are better ways of handling a situation when you run into a gatecrasher, but Noodle _doesn’t care_. She’s offered to make Murdoc pay many times, but 2D would never let her even as much as confront him about it for some goddamn reason. In addition, she’s never got the chance to make the woman pay until now. Paula is taller than her, but it doesn’t stop Noodle from latching her fingers around her upper arm and dragging her to the nearest restroom, people parting away to let her pass, shocked at the display.

Noodle kicks the door open, startling some of the female collaborators chatting by the sink as they touch up their makeup. Paula is released with a shove, stumbling a couple of steps until she regains her balance and straightens her posture. The women file out of the bathroom, having only heard stories about Noodle’s infamous foul mood and not desiring to witness it in person.

“You.” She points an accusing finger at Paula, standing strong under her glare. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Paula sniffs and waves dismissively. “It doesn’t concern you.”

“Except it does. Haven’t you done damage enough?”

“I’m not here to talk to you.” She grits out. “I’m here to talk to Stu.”

Oh? Now it’s _Stu_? She has no right whatsoever to refer to him like that, not after everything. “You aren’t going to talk to anyone. You’ve had your chance to talk to him before and didn’t take it.”

“I am _not_ leaving, and not even security can get me out.”

Noodle smirks slightly. “Maybe security can’t, but I surely will. Sorry to inform you, but I’m probably stronger than all these guards combined.”

Paula loses her composure. It’s just a second, but her stance sags and her eyes widen. “Fuck, you’re all a bunch of weirdos.”

“Yet, here you are, looking for one of us.” She crosses her arms, hips cocked to the side. “Say what you want and be gone.”

The gatecrasher doesn’t get to say anything then (not that she was going to, to begin with) for the door opens and they are interrupted. “Oi, Noodle. Pauline said yeh were – Oh, shit.”

Murdoc.

The bassist steps fully into the room and closes the door quickly, scowling at the woman. Across the restroom where the two bandmates stand together, Paula sets her jaw and curls her hands into fists. Noodle would have laughed if she weren’t so angry, but there’s something wonderfully ironic in having the two people that ruined 2D’s life in the same place with her.

She chuckles, brief and quiet and unsettling, and Murdoc stares at her in surprise. “I should just beat the two of you within an inch of your lives.”

“Let’s not do anythin’ hasty, love.”

“Shut up.” The bassist presses his lips tightly together and frowns. “You had a part in it just as much as she did. It’s not right that only she takes the blame.” Paula nods slowly with a slight shrug of her shoulders. It takes two to cheat on a third party and she’s been shouldering all the blame for years.

Murdoc touches a hand to his forehead and rubs the space between his eyebrows. “Yeh can kick me ass all yeh want later. Now we gotta get her outta here.”

“I told her already. I’m not leaving.”

“Yeh are a real bitch. Always has been.” He turns to the door. “I’m gettin’ tha security.”

The door opens once again and Murdoc quickly jumps back to avoid being hit. Russel steps into the restroom and looks from his bandmates to Paula, his expression going from confused to angry in the blink of an eye. The tension in the room skyrockets with his arrival and Noodle’s arms starts tingling. She flexes her fingers to release some of the stress in her body, and longs to let it all out on the punching bag back home. Noodle should be naturally violent given her past, but she isn’t. Although her best outlet for her emotions includes punching and kicking, she doesn’t fight people unless they attack her, or any of them, first, or unless their lives are at stake.

However, her hand’s itching, begging her to break his nose in five other different places, rip the woman in two and destroy this restroom until she’s feeling like herself again. Paula’s presence is making the worst in her rise, the red-hot anger she conceals so well resurfacing for the first time since Plastic Beach. Mixed with her fierce need to protect the singer, it creates a volatile combination.

Russel stands directly behind Noodle to address Paula. “Ya here to apologize?”

Her eyebrows pinch. “No.”

“Fo’ some reason, ya have his child at home?”

“Pfft, what? No, of course not.”

“Then why the fuck ya here fo’?”

Paula shifts and Noodle instinctively bends her knees. The drummer places a hand on her shoulder and she stops, settling for glaring at the woman. “I’m going to talk to him.”

“Sure yeh are.” Murdoc’s voice is dripping with sarcasm. “Unless we know why yeh here, yeh ain’t leavin’ this place.”

Moments like this when he shows he cares for the singer make Noodle reconsider strangling him. There isn’t much they can do, only wait for her to speak up before they can kick her out for good. The muffled music playing doesn’t distract them at all, and to an outsider they must seem like an old fashioned western showdown. Three versus one. There’s no way she can escape them now.

Actually, Paula lost her chances of escaping the moment she ran into Noodle on the dancefloor.

Paula keeps quiet though, arms folded, dark eyes flicking from one face to the other. Noodle, who’s beginning to lose her grip on her patience, feels it slipping further and further away from her grasp when she catches the slight smirk that dances on the woman’s lips for the briefest second.

“You bitch.” She says through clenched teeth. All eyes fall on her. “You aren’t here to speak to him. You’re here to tear us apart! What is it? Are you so mad you were kicked out and Murdoc wasn’t that now you want to ruin us? You’ve got a lot of nerve to come here now of all times just for this!”

The ex-girlfriend, ex guitarist, gatecrasher, lifts her nose up in the air and looks down at her. “Took me too long, but I’m here to get my revenge.”

“Then get your revenge on him!” She points at Murdoc and he sputters, gaping at her. “You’ve already hurt 2D enough as it is! You’ve got no business coming here to make him miserable again! You could literally kill Murdoc any time he goes to a bar by himself and no one would even know! But you didn’t think of that and now you’re here stirring up all this drama because you’re fucking stupid!”

“I was replaced by a child!” She screeches indignantly. “Don’t think all my bones to pick are with him!”

“You wouldn’t have been if you were faithful!” Both Russel’s hands are on her shoulders now, holding her down firmly lest she makes a go at her. “Or if you had broken up beforehand! See? You didn’t even think _that_ through! You should’ve known that enrolling with Murdoc would end up badly!”

“Noodle, can yeh please stop insultin’ me?”

“Shut the fuck up!” The guitarist starts struggling to break free. As result, Russel’s grip tightens and Paula steps back until she’s flush against the wall. “I’m going to kill this bitch! She waltzes back into our lives after _years_ just to piss us off! I haven’t a strand of patience left in me! If you want your revenge, fine, come get it, but leave him out of it, damn it! He doesn’t deserve any more pain!”

She knows she shouldn’t be taking it personally, but only recently 2D’s begun getting over the incident. It was a long and delicate process, he’s not fully healed yet, and now they can return to step one because of a childish decision of hers. She knows he’ll relapse if he runs into his ex. Paula has always been a delicate topic, part of the reason why he used to be so insecure. Noodle couldn’t before, but now that she has the chance, she wants to protect him. If she personally has to manhandle Paula out of here to keep him safe, she will.

Once again, they are interrupted. With 2D now in the restroom, the mood shifts completely and Noodle ceases her struggles to watch, wide eyed, as he takes it all in. He can be a difficult person to read if you don’t know him well enough and he isn’t showing his emotions openly, but Noodle has spent so much time around him she can pick his changes of humor just by looking at the shift of his shoulders and the way his eyebrows twitch.

Right now, he’s uncomfortable. It won’t take long before he loses his cool, too.

“What... What are yeh doin’ ‘ere?” He frowns at his ex. “Why are yeh ‘ere after all yeh did?”

Paula takes a step forward. “Stu–”

“Don’ call me tha’!” He points a finger at her, tremulous, mildly glaring at her. “Don’. I don’ wanna ‘ear anyfink yeh ‘ave to say. Yeh left an’ yeh should’ve stayed _gone_!” 2D turns to his friends. “I want ‘er outta ‘ere. Now! Noodle.” She meets his eyes, a shinier black, an indication of incoming tears. “Make ‘er leave, please. I don’ want ‘er ‘ere, I don’ wanna see ‘er anymore. Please, Noodle, make ‘er leave!”

Noodle can only nod repeatedly at him, still restrained by Russel, feeling her insides crumbling along with the singer’s. This is what she feared, the inevitable breakdown. She should’ve kicked Paula out of the club instead of confronting her about it, should’ve knocked her out and locked her in a cupboard, should’ve done anything but let her stay where 2D could easily find her. She failed to protect him again, failed to keep a promise she made to herself.

By some heaven-sent intervention, the door opens again. Security guards rush into the room and seize Paula, forcing her out of the restroom while she kicks and screams profanities and things they don’t care to listen. At the door, Peven nods at them and goes after the guards, both bassist and drummer following shortly after. The music keeps playing, but all the guests are paying attention to the gatecrasher.

Now free, she runs to 2D and welcomes him into her arms. He’s shaking, terribly so, wiping away tears with unsteady hands, and she quickly tries to console him before it’s too late. Seeing the man she loves hurting so much shatters her heart to pieces. “It’s okay, baby.” She whispers as she runs her thumbs underneath his eyes, cups his cheeks in her warm palms. “I’m here. She won’t hurt you again. I won’t let her. I’m here.”

“Noodle...” His voice, so small and meek, breaks and so does another part of her. His fingers loosely curl around her wrists, holding on. “I don’ wanna go through tha’ again, please... Please, don’ do tha’ to me... Please...”

She pulls his face into the crook of her neck, kisses him by the ear, fingers tangled in wild blue hair, arm tightly wrapped around his shoulders. “I’ll never leave you, love. I’ll be with you forever. I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mahreemari: Noodle meeting Paula. Ex-gf meets the unofficial but totally is current gf
> 
> I revised this twice but I'm not sure if I got everything right so?? Blame Jamie
> 
> Also, if anyone's interested in a lighter take, head to _I'll Take You Deeper: xi: Paula_


End file.
